We spent New Years with my dad and family. We got new guns for Christmas and enjoyed a day of target practice. Middle darling was hanging like a kid from the head bar of the ATV and he blurted out “This is what it smelled like when Daddy died.” It hadn’t even crossed my mind that we were doing anything ‘wrong’. It comes out in small bits and pieces like this. A few nights later he told me how Dave’s arm shook while he died. I let him talk and I just listen, then I hold on to him like there is no tomorrow. Big darling confided that he is scared every night of the robbers coming back. I asked him if he happened to see how many times mommy hit the orange target? There is no harm coming to these kids while I am here to defend them. That I know. We went through the whole scenario again…how the door was unlocked, the lights outside were off, we had no alarm, etc. All that is different now. It sucks to have lost the carefree way we once lived, but the reality is that we share our city with hundreds of thousands of thugs. So be it. I’m thankful that I grew up with guns, learned so early how to handle and respect them, and have no fear of defending my family. All I can say with certainty is that I’m a survivor. I hope my boys will learn to be the same way.
Even the baby, whom you would think doesn’t have a clue what is going on, will throw a bomb to you out of nowhere. He cuddles up close sometimes, just beams at me and says “I’m so happy," then says, “I really love daddy." It is usually in a moment when I am feeling Dave is literally sucking the air from my breath, I am feeling him so strong and close. He told me a few nights ago that Daddy died in the garage with a gun. He is the hardest one to talk to, because I just don’t know what he understands. Daddy is in heaven…so where is that? He’s with Jesus, Baby Jesus? He always points up, although I’ve been careful to never do that. I think Heaven is everywhere, another dimension but not necessarily UP. The older kids are scared of ghosts now. My answer is that Jesus is a ghost, He’s the HOLY GHOST, are you scared of Him? A ghost is a spirit, so daddy is one too in the technical sense of the word. I pray as they get older they can open their hearts to receive the gifts I believe I receive from my spirits every day. What about bad spirits they ask? We’re not open to them, I say. Deep stuff for a 16 yr old….deep stuff for a thousand year old mama who is really only 43 in the flesh! I swear I do feel 1000. Luckily I only look 100.
So we survived Christmas and New Years because my family rocks. In the next 6 months, we need to survive Dave’s birthday, Father’s day, and the anniversary of his death all in the span of 30 days. People you will need to pull out the stops for me. Show up here, scoop me off the floor, text me dirty messages, drag us to church, I don’t know….I’m scared to death. More scared of that than anything. What are my kids going to do when everyone else makes a Father’s Day project? Are they going to say my mom is turning into a gun wielding aggressive lunatic who is perhaps part man now and just make me a card? Or make him a card and bring it to the cemetery? Or make cards for Uncle Poo Poo and Uncle Brian and Pere Pere and Tyler…the men they adore? Should we just be sick that day and drive to Disney?? There is no handbook here. I’ll let you all know once mine is written.
Which brings me to the next question…why share this? I am the cautionary tale. And this blog is my wakeup call to the universe. I hope it affects you positively in some way. Don’t just read it and be sad. Read it and know that the powers of prayers from thousands of people can affect change in every way. I find the positive in everything, even in ridiculous stuff. This new way of life is very liberating, much less stressful and I have a lot more patience. Peace and Love for 2012….live it like the Mayans might be right. You won’t be sorry.